Stellar
by terrified
Summary: A one-shot, prompt fill. Sherlock Holmes may be the most arrogant man in the world, but there is no doubt that he would make an excellent father.


_**A/N:** I was asked on Tumblr to do a parent!lock fic, so here it is, my first foray! I hope you'll enjoy it. x_

* * *

**Stellar**

Sherlock was very protective of the women in his life. There was his mother, though he would never admit it. There was Mrs Hudson, Mary and of course, Molly, his wife.

"I still can't believe you're married…" remarked John one day, when he and Mary had stopped over for tea with their eight-year old daughter, Sophie. "You, Sherlock Holmes, the _cockiest_ bastard I know and you got yourself a wife. And a pretty angelic one at that."  
"Only angels can deal with demons, John," Sherlock replied with a snide smile.  
"Yes, clearly," Mary added, distributing the scones on the table.  
"Hello everybody! Sorry I'm late for tea," came Molly's delightful voice.

The moment she appeared at the door, Sherlock rose from his seat and walked right up to Molly. He brandished a thermometer out of nowhere and popped it in her mouth. While that was happening, he took her pulse and then again, out of nowhere, brandished a little torchlight, pulling down her lower eyelids to check her eyes.

"Sherlock, I only went out to buy some more milk and jam for our tea today." she said, her voice slightly muffled with the thermometer perched precariously between her lips.  
"Your pulse is slightly elevated but not alarmingly high, possibly because you brisk-walked to the shops…" he said, ignoring her completely, "Eyes are clear, and temperature…" He slid the thermometer out of her mouth, read it and smiled satisfactorily at the result.

"You're fine. You can come join us for tea."  
"Thank God," Molly said with exaggerated relief, "I don't want to be sent to bed again for the umpteenth time."  
"Pregnant women _can_ move around and do things, you know, Sherlock?" said Mary, as she smoothed some cream over a scone for Sophie.  
"He's never going to buy that," Molly said with a sigh, "He nearly handcuffed me to the bed once."

After Molly put her bags down, she came to the table and sat herself beside Sherlock. Carefully, with one hand on her massive pregnancy bump, she lowered herself into the seat. Sherlock turned to her and smiled, automatically reaching for her bump and placing his palm protectively over it. He said not a word but the look in his eyes told John and Mary that although Sherlock Holmes was probably the cockiestbastard in the world, he was going to be a marvellous father. 

* * *

When his little girl was born, Molly insisted that he name the child, believing that his vast knowledge of words and etymology would help him find the perfect name. However, the addition of this new life into his own life left him dumbfounded for many days. He would hold her close, hum quietly to her and refer to her only as '_mine'_. Molly would chuckle and kiss him as he held their daughter, reminding him that they _did_ have paperwork to submit and that her birth certificate would look a little odd with the name 'Mine Holmes' inscribed on it.

Eventually, he settled on the name Stella, to mean 'star'. He was mesmerised at the way her lovely eyes sparkled as her mother's did. Every so often, even with the baby in his arms, he would go up to Molly, kissing her squarely on the lips or planting multiple kisses on the side of her face. He could not be more grateful to Molly for bringing such a beautiful little life into his own. Little Stella was more than a star, really. She had become his universe. 

* * *

Stella was now seven and had entered primary school. Today, it was Sherlock's turn to pick her up from school. When he arrived, he immediately noticed her downcast eyes and how she was nervously chewing on her lip. When they got into the car, he leaned across and kissed her on the top of her head.

"What's the matter, Stella?" he asked her softly.  
"I'm nervous, daddy." she answered as quietly as she had been asked.  
"Whatever about?"

The girl took a deep breath and tried to compose herself. Sherlock smiled to himself at how she was so like her mother. They had the same wide-eyed, shy look about them every time they got anxious or stressed.

"I've been chosen…" she began.  
"Yes?"  
"I've been chosen…to play a solo for the school concert."  
"For the violin?" he asked, smiling.  
"Yes…"  
"Well, that's wonderful, Stella," he said, planting a delighted kiss on her little cheek.  
"No, daddy, it's not," she said, sounding like she was going to cry.  
"Why not? You play wonderfully! Mummy and Daddy love to hear you play. Even Uncle Mike loves your violin playing."  
"Yes, Daddy but…" her face was still anxious and she turned to him with wide, glistening eyes.

Sherlock felt his heart collapse from worry when he saw the look in her eyes. She was anxious, terrified and at a loss.

"Tell me what's wrong, Stella," he asked her gently.  
"I like to play the violin at home, I like playing it with you, I can play it in the music room in school, I can play it with the other children who play violin…" she said in a hurried stream of words. "But I don't want to play on a stage. And I don't want to play alone."

At this, a few large tears escaped her delicate brown eyes and she began to sob quietly in her seat. Immediately, Sherlock wrapped his arms around her and comforted her, shushing her gently and letting her cry against him.

"There, there, don't be scared," he told his daughter.  
"But I am, daddy," she answered.  
"You don't have to be," he said, now holding her face in his hands as he looked squarely in her eyes.  
"But I am."  
"Daddy will help you," he said with a smile, "I promise." 

* * *

"Stella, are you ready? We're going to be late for your first rehearsal." Molly said, glancing anxiously at her watch, "And mummy's needed at the hospital."  
"You go ahead," said Sherlock, walking to his wife and giving her a kiss, "I'm en route to a case and it's also en route to school so I can take her."  
"You sure?" said Molly, giving him a grateful peck on the lips.  
"Positive," he assured her, smiling, "Now go or you'll really be late."

Molly wrapped herself in her coat, rushed quickly to give her a daughter a goodbye hug and left the flat. Sherlock reached for his coat and turned to his daughter who now stood beside him.

"You ready?" he said, grinning.  
"Yes." she said, grinning back.  
"Come on then, don't want to be late." he said, taking her tiny hand in his. 

* * *

"Molly! There you are!" said Mary, rushing to give her friend a hug and a kiss.  
"John, Mary, hi!" Molly replied with a cheerful smile. "Where's Sophie?"  
"She really wanted to come but she's got a terrible cold so we left her at home." John said.  
"At home? Alone?" asked Molly.  
"She _is_ fifteen, you know, Molly. I left her with some soup and lots of blankets." Mary remarked with a laugh. "These babies all grow up so fast…"  
"They do, don't they?" Molly said with a knowing smile, "I can't believe I'm here, at Stella's first violin performance. I don't know what to feel."  
"You'll feel loads of joy and pride, that's what," said Mary, clutching her friend's arm. "And so will Sherlock."  
"Speaking of which…" said John, looking around, "Where is he?"

The three of them looked around as the school hall slowly filled with people. There was no sign of Sherlock, and Molly was beginning to worry. She thought hard about where he could be. Surely he would not be late for his daughter's first ever violin performance? She had dropped Stella off early at school for dress rehearsals and Sherlock had been out on a case all day.

_Hey, are you here yet?_ - _M_

_Go get seated first. - SH_

_But are you coming? You'd better not be on a case. - M_

_I'll be there. - SH_

Molly sighed. No concrete answers, as usual.

"Well? Is he here yet?" asked Mary.  
"He said to go in and get seated first."  
"Is he not coming?" John asked.  
"He said he'll be here," Molly said, still looking anxiously around the hall, "But I guess we'll just do as he says."  
"He's not going to miss this, Molly," Mary said assuringly to Molly, "And if he does, he'll have you and me to reckon with."  
"I'd better ready the sofa, just in case," said Molly with a laugh.

Soon, the school hall was filled with eager parents, family members and friends. The lights were dimmed and a collective hush swept across the audience as the concert began. The opening number was a delightful little tap dance routine featuring the boys and girls across all forms. As the audience applauded and the next item was being announced, Molly glanced worriedly at the empty seat next to her. Mary caught her furtive look and squeezed her hand assuringly.

"Thank you, boys and girls! That was wonderful!" said the announcer, as a group of children in bumble bee costumes were ushered offstage. "Next up, we have a wonderful performance on the violin…"

Molly felt ready to chew her lip off just as she felt ready to give her husband a big talking to when she got home. Stella was up next and the seat beside her remained empty. Mary glanced over and mouthed, _I'm so sorry_, to her. Molly shrugged sadly and decided she would just focus on Stella and worry about the disappearing detective later.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Stella Holmes."

A hush fell over the audience again as they waited for the curtains to part. Molly was so nervous she could hear her heart beating in her ears. She was filled with anticipation, but also with fear as to how to tell Stella that her father had not turned up for her debut public performance. As the curtains parted, a single spotlight lit the stage and the petite figure of Stella Holmes stepped boldly into it.

Molly instantly felt a lump in her throat as her heart swelled with pride when her beautiful little girl stood there so bravely on stage in a dark blue dress they had specially picked out for this occasion.

"Come on, darling," she whispered, trying to hold back tears of pride.

With a deep breath and a dazzling smile, Stella Holmes lifted the bow to her violin and began to play. Having been taught from young age by Sherlock, Stella's tone on the violin was marvellous. It had a delightfully sweet strain to every note she played and the audience sat mesmerised as the melody from her violin filled the air.

"Oh, look at her!" Mary squealed softly, reaching for Molly's hand again.  
"Better than Sherlock," John mouthed to Molly, who grinned in response.

As Stella played on, a layer of harmony began to swim wonderfully alongside her melody. The audience murmured curiously as to where this second violin was coming from. The moment she heard the harmony, Stella's face shone with a knowing smile as a second spotlight appeared next to her. And who should step into it, but her father, Sherlock Holmes, with his own violin tucked expertly under his chin and his bow moving seamlessly to Stella's melody. The father and daughter duo angled themselves such that they faced each other and continued playing in perfect timing, his harmony blending flawlessly with her notes.

Molly gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. _This _was why he kept insisting on taking her to rehearsals. _This_ was why his 'cases' always happened to be en route to school. When the pair finished with a glorious last note that hung in the air like a sweet perfume, the audience burst into rapturous applause. Molly clapped so hard her hands went numb. She had never been more proud of Stella. And she certainly had never been more proud of Sherlock. 

* * *

At the end of the concert, Molly waited for Stella to emerge backstage and when she did, the girl sprinted to her mother and wrapped herself around her. Molly swept her daughter up and did not stop kissing her face.

"You were wonderful, Stella! Mummy is so proud of you!" Molly said, giving her daughter another kiss on the nose.  
"I wasn't scared of the stage, Mummy," said Stella with a bold, bright smile.  
"That's right. You didn't look scared at all," Molly remarked, beaming, "You're such a brave girl to do that."  
"Well, that's because Daddy helped me, like he said he would." the little girl said, turning round in Molly's arms to look for her father.

Just then, Sherlock emerged from backstage too, carrying two violin cases with him. His eyes were beaming with pride for his daughter as well.

"Hello," he said, bending to kiss his wife.  
"Hello," Molly replied, smiling at him.  
"Sorry I didn't tell you earlier,"  
"Well, I did get a bit of a heart attack…" Molly said, "But my heart burst with pride after anyway, so…not a bad thing."  
"That would make for a terrible autopsy," he said with a grin.  
"Shall we?" asked Molly, gesturing at their now sleepy daughter who yawned against her mother's shoulder.  
"Yes, let's", said Sherlock.

With his arm wrapped around his wife who held their exhausted little performer, Sherlock Holmes headed home with the only one who ever mattered, and the universe that contained them.

**End**


End file.
